


Lullaby

by thatchickwiththepigtails



Category: DC's Legends of Tomorrow (TV)
Genre: F/M, Fluff and Angst, I hope, but it's cute, i had so much fun writing gideon, idk for sure what this is
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-12-08
Updated: 2017-12-08
Packaged: 2019-02-12 06:00:42
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,204
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12952866
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/thatchickwiththepigtails/pseuds/thatchickwiththepigtails
Summary: "I am sorry to inform you that their musical genius didn’t make it to the XXIII century, Miss Lance. I’ve spent half of my life training; I didn’t have time for listening to ancient music.”Or that time Sara got an iPod and was the happiest woman en Earth





	Lullaby

**Author's Note:**

> I started writing this before season 3, so last time I reread it I almost cried with Stein's brief mentions. Just so you know, in case you're as angry as me

“What do you mean you never listened to Fall Out Boy? They are perfection!”

“I am sorry to inform you that their musical genius didn’t make it to the XXIII century, Miss Lance” Captain Hunter retorts and continues, sticking his tongue out of his mouth. “I’ve spent half of my life training; I didn’t have time for listening to ancient music.”

Rip and Sara have being talking about what they miss from their previous life; which for him is mostly his family. For Sara too, but she was such a concert fan, she misses the feeling of home that a room filled with thousands of people always gave her: hundreds of fans singing the same words in unison, being invisible while showing her true self…

And okay, maybe Oliver had something to do with her Fall Out Boy obsession, as she had always been more on the Maroon5, Nelly Furtado, James Blunt side of music. After all, being in her twenties when Rihanna started being a thing had had an impact on her. But she was young and in love and wanted to impress Oliver by liking everything he liked, proving she wasn’t just “like the other girls”, and Fall was his favorite band, so of course she would listen to them.

Turns out, she liked them for real. Their lyrics resonated with her more than anything the Pussycat Dolls would be singing on her car radio; that characteristic voice would get stuck in her head all the time; the bass line would pierce her, soothing her wounds. She even met Pete Wentz once, at one of Oliver’s parties, even though he probably never realized there was a blonde kid following him like a shadow. Obviously, during her time in Hell in the island, the lack of music wasn’t on the top of her list of problems. Still, that night Nyssa came to her room and handed her an iPod she stayed up all night jumping and dancing around, joyful as she hadn’t been in a long time.

When she went back to Star City, she spent more time than recommended catching up with the musical news of the previous five years, time that could have been used on preventing her own death. But when times were hard and she needed comfort, Patrick mollified her pain. He still does, even when she almost spoiled their comeback to a 2013 kid because she had Light ‘Em Up as her ringtone one month sooner.

Their discussion ends there, with Gideon informing them of a new threat and turning the conversation into a strategic meeting.

 

After the planning comes the action; then more planning when the action goes wrong, some fighting, a little more of planning and saving that woman from certain death. And a small celebration back at the ship. And after a couple drinks and a lot of laughing on behalf of Jax’ imitation of Stein’s singing –hint: their connection doesn’t reach their musical abilities-; Sara ends up asleep on her favorite couch at the library.

Actually, Rip may be the only person awake in the Waverider. He’s determined to keep records of all their missions, making sure everything stays as History should be; so after everybody went to bed, he stayed to write today’s report. He’s almost done when a series of pained grunts and heaving breathing coming from the back of the room startle him.

Rip goes to investigate the noises with a hand prepared to block the view: someone might be in danger; but the grunting could also be related to sex, and he doesn’t even know who is dating who in this goddamn ship anymore, too many people coming and going and coming again to recall all the possible pairs. Just in case, he prefers not to see.

But on the couch is Sara by herself, moving and turning and kicking and crying. And still asleep. Rip has never seen her crying, but he’s too scared of getting closer and being punched by accident, so he asks for the best help:

“Gideon, what do I do?”

“It appears Miss Lance is having a nightmare, Captain. Helping her to relax seems the right course of action.”

“Thank you for stating the obvious, Gideon. How can we relax her?”

“For Miss Lance, music is always the way. There is a particular song she requests plenty of times when she has a bad night. And thank you, Captain. You can always rely on me as a font of obvious knowledge.”

Music starts to fill the library. It’s a short song, so it repeats a couple times before the grunts and the kicks slow to a stop; but Sara finally calms down and starts breathing evenly, asleep in peace.

“Should I wake her up? Do I take her to her bed?”

“You should start making your own decisions and not trusting everything on an artificial intelligence, Captain. But yes, sleeping at her bed is a healthier choice than the couch. Although,” Gideon continues while Rip slides an arm underneath Sara’s legs, “you could receive a punch in the face if Miss Lance woke up in the middle of the corridor being carried bridal style.”

And oh, is Gideon always right…

 

The next morning Sara wakes up with dried blood on her knuckles, but she can’t remember why or whose: she knows she punched somebody, ran to her room and fell asleep; but the details are blurry, as if she wasn’t completely awake when that happened.

Well, not her first semi-unconscious fight; probably not her last.

She shrugs it off and readies herself for breakfast; she’ll find out at some point, right? Meanwhile, she arrives at the cafeteria and waits in line watching their daily routines: Marty is praising his grapefruit as if he’s never seen anything more beautiful before; Nate and Amaya are back into lovebirds mode, so sweet it may rot her teeth – when did they got back together again?-; Zari is enjoying a plate of red velvet brownies with marshmallows and blueberries, trying something new every day; and Ray has that sad, nostalgic look he gets at breakfast, almost as if he was missing something.

Rip manages to show up every morning right after Sara’s eggs and bacon are ready and today is not an exception. Nothing is different today in any way for anybody except for the fact that Sara has found her night opponent. And his much bruised nose. While he’s requesting his cereal, she calls him to come over her table and starts laughing:

“Take that off, purple doesn’t suit you.”

“Oh, you find it funny, Miss Lance? It took me five minutes to stop bleeding; Gideon wouldn’t stop admonishing me the whole time.”

“That’s what happens when you do… Whatever the hell you were doing. What were you…?”

“Taking you to your room. You fell asleep.”

“Oh! Thanks” Sara stops to push an unhelpful piece of egg into her fork. “You could have waked me up, though.”

“I told him that, but the Captain chose to play gentleman.”

“You looked like you needed to rest” Rip answers feeling the sudden urge of looking down at his plate. He can feel Sara’s eyes piercing through his skull, even when his cereal has become the most interesting thing in the entire space.

“You’re stupid.”

“Indeed he is” the ship’s voice announces.

“Gideon! Just the tiniest bit of respect would be appreciated, thanks.”

“Sorry Captain, I wasn’t talking to you this time. I was answering Mr. Jefferson’s question on whether is Dr. Palmer sitting next to him or not.”

The same Dr. Palmer that left the cafeteria ten minutes ago.

 

Three days later Rip finds himself in the same position again: at the library, trying to write, and hearing all those whimpers and soft cries. And like that other night, Sara is hidden in the back, asleep and furiously punching the air.

“Gideon; that one song should work, right?”

“Sure, Captain” the computer answers before playing some music.

And like the other time, Sara relaxes in just a couple minutes; with Rip kneeling next to her, watching her jaw unclenching, her arms falling, her breath slowing, her hands taking his. Rip takes a moment to breath and looks down at their intertwined hands; his heart skips a beat, probably because he’s scared of what he has to do next.

“Miss Lance?” he asks, lightly shaking her shoulder. “Miss Lance? Sara?” he shakes her again, with more force. She grumbles for a bit before finally opening her eyes and slapping Rip. Hard.

“Oh shit” words escape her lips as a whisper. “Did I hurt you?”

“More than I would admit in front of the others, yes. But not as much as the other night.”

“Shit” she sits on the couch and tugs at the hand she’s still holding, throwing him onto the empty seat next to her. “I’m sorry, Rip. It’s a reflex; you know, fight or die.”

“I guess it’s natural given your past experiences, right? Especially when you are… When you’re not sleeping well.”

“Was I screaming again? Sin said I used to scream at night.”

“No screams. You were just fighting and in pain. Why, has this happened before?”

“Yes, when I first got back to Starling City. I started having these nightmares, but it got better.”

“And now they’re back?” Sara nods, looking down; and waits a moment before raising her head:

“They’re not the same. I used to dream about the island, about Ivo… Now all I see is Lauren dying in different ways” her voice is shaking but she continues, determined to get everything off her chest. “Getting shot and drowning and being beaten a-and I ca-can’t do anything and I don’t know how to stop them!” There was a time when Sara would have told this only to her family; but with her father still on a wire, there’s no one else. Just Rip.

He understands it. Perfectly. H was once also scared of sleeping, tired of watching his wife and son die over and over again. “Time, revenge and friends.”

“Excuse me?”

“What I needed to overcome my own nightmares: time, revenge on Savage, and to stop isolating myself.”

“I’m not isolating mys-“

“No, you’re better than me on that, Sara, you are friendly. But you do not trust any of us. Not completely.”

“I… I’m going to bed, I think.” They both get up and realize they’re still holding hands, but now it’s not the time to break the touch with lame excuses. “Thank you, Rip. I will think about you-about what you said.”

The Captain accompanies Sara to her room in a silent walk, giving her space to compose herself, and to him to look at her: her eyes are red; her clothes, wrinkly; and has a face of half dreading-half dying to sleep; but her hair still holds into an immaculate ponytail. Amazing golden hair genes.

Sara meanwhile isn’t thinking that much at all. Her feet are leading her towards her bed and that’s the only thing that matters now. Yes, she has plenty to think about, more than she first believed, but not tonight.

“Well, here you are. Goodnight, Miss Lance” Rip announces taking off an invisible hat. Sara takes his hand once again and squeezes it:

“Miss Lance? I was Sara five minutes ago, please don’t “Miss Lance” me again.” And taking the hand to her mouth, she places a soft kiss on his knuckles. “Goodnight, Rip.”

He chuckles before replying:

“Goodnight, Sara.” The door closes between them and he leans against it for a moment before hurrying to his own room, intensely pretending not to care about anything that’s happened tonight.

 

Except he very much does, as so does Sara; and in the next weeks they find themselves being dragged next to each other. Nothing out of the usual; just two captains discussing strategies and action plans, and moving then to more personal topics. And what if they prefer the quiet of the library? Or if there are some subjects that they prefer to talk with each other more than with anyone else? Does it matter if Rip’s heart fastens dangerously every time Sara takes his hand and leads him to the couch? Does it matter if Sara feels lighter every time Rip leans his head into her shoulder?

Yes, Sara still has nightmares, but Rip is usually there to help her wake up -and he’s learning to dodge-. Eventually, they find out these are less frequent when Sara falls asleep next to him. With time, she doesn’t ask Rip to help her sleep on the couch and simply goes to his bed. Soon, he doesn’t hold Sara’s hand but just holds Sara’s body against his. In no time, their crew stops asking about their captains sharing a room, a bed and a life.

 

Still, the bad dreams are back sometimes. There are nights when Sara fights the air again; when she punched and cries and kicks and loses her breath. Except now Rip knows how to make the nightmares disappear; with just a song and a touch. He embraces her, placing a single kiss behind her ear before he starts to sing:

“Honey is for bees, silly bear…”

**Author's Note:**

> Title taken from Fall Out Boy's "Lullaby"; one day I'll learn to write something that has nothing to do with fob, but not today.
> 
> Also, I know the ending is rushed but I've been stuck for months with this and I needed to let it go.


End file.
